


to each their own (find peace in knowing)

by subtlyhaught



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Reference to Eating Disorders, lots of things from their pasts, reassuring evie, soft mal, theyre all vague but trigger warning anyway, this ones p soft but there are loads of implications
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 07:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15552495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtlyhaught/pseuds/subtlyhaught
Summary: "Do you ever think about it?" She asked.





	to each their own (find peace in knowing)

**Author's Note:**

> hello hi this has lots of subtle references to abuse and a mention of an eating disorder and scars are mentioned. it doesn't get graphic at all but if you think you could be triggered id suggest against reading it. stay safe my loves.

Mal was ten minutes into her bath when there was a knock on the door. The hair on the back of Mals neck raised, the uneasiness of being completely exposed returning full force, after it had only just gone away.

_"Mal?"_

She let out a breath, immediately settling back down into the water. It was Evie. Of course it was Evie. Her voice was muffled by the wood that separated the bathroom from the rest of their dorm, but there was no mistaking who had called her name.

"Its open," Mal had called back, the words sounding sour on her tongue as she realized she hadn't, in fact, locked the door.

There was a creak of old hinges, and suddenly Mal was no longer alone.

Evie stepped inside the bathroom with all her usual glory, despite having only a towel wrapped around her shoulders. (But really, it only served to enrapture Mal even more, who was she lying to.) "I thought you could use some company."

Mal could only nod, her eyes following Evie as she sauntered across the bathroom, all legs and skin and quiet confidence. She dropped her towel from around her shoulders as she neared Mal, letting it pool around her ankles in a perfect mess, before she positioned herself to get into the water.

Evie was slow and steady as she slipped into the bath, hands gripping the sides of the tub as she eased herself in, letting her legs drift gracefully under the suds that had gathered on the surface. Mal was always amazed at how slow and delicate and _beautiful_ Evie seemed to make everything, even something as simple as lowering herself into a bath. The blue haired girls arms flexed softly as the worked to hold up her body weight, revealing an unexpected amount of muscle. Mal wasn't surprised, Evie had had to learn to defend herself on the Isle, maybe even more then she had. If the former had come home with even a scratch, all hell broke loose, so she had to learn to be nimble. How to avoid striking blows and what to use to counter them so the contact wouldn't leave a bright blue bruise that demanded her mother's attention. (But with her looks and charm, it was difficult to not be followed by limber old men looking for a good time, and it made Mals stomach churn. She hated what had happened to Evie on the Isle. She hated her mother for not caring even more.)

Mal closed her eyes when she felt the taller girls calves brush her own, inhaling softly and just basking in the familiarity of the fleeting touch, comforted by the fact that Evie was here, with her, in this beautiful warm place in Auradon, and she was okay. She was alive. They all were.

What a strange thought.

Baths were a luxury no one could afford on the Isle. There was barely any clean water as it was, and what they had was almost always reserved especially for drinking. Illnesses were so common that almost no one wanted to even risk contracting whatever was in the swirling brown water, that was most commonly seen sold around the "Town Square." So the streets reeked of body odor. Body odor, heaping piles of trash, and oddly enough, bleach, because really, showering in the brown stuff was no better than consuming it.

Mal still wasn't used to bring perfectly clean. Sometimes she'd forget there wasn't, in fact, grime and dried blood caked under her nails and across her face, and she'd subconsciously try and scratch out the none existent dirt from her pores when she was stressed, or in class, or around Evie. It was just such a habit that six months in Auradon couldn't erase it.

On the other hand, showering and bathing made her incredibly anxious. After all, she was alone, in a small room with just a flimsy lock on the door, and completely exposed to attack. Of course those things _"_ _ _don't__ ___happen___ ____in____ _____Auradon,_____ _ _ _ _ _ _Mal______ _ _ _ _ _ _.______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _You're_______ ________safe________ _________here_________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _."_________ But that didn't stop her from jumping in and out of the shower like it was going to burn her, and dressing herself as fast as possible until all that was exposed was her face, the pulsing fear she used to feel all the time on the Isle assaulting her from all angles. It was absolutely nerve wracking, every sense standing on edge whenever she stood under the onslaught of warm water.

It was only in moments like these when Mal felt even remotely safe.

When she opened her eyes again, Evie had settled. Her hand had pierced the soapy surface, and her blue nails were swirling the misty water around in almost a practiced motion.

The girls blue hair cascaded down her bare back and fell in loose, messy waves that framed her face. It was just long enough that the tips soaked in the water, turning a darker but equally mesmerizing shade of navy. Her face was stripped of its usual blue eyeliner and lacked the mask of foundation and concealer she attacked it with on a day by day basis. Habits bestowed upon you from birth were horrendously hard to break, after all.

This was Mals favorite Evie. It was the Evie she saw just before bed, the one who laid soft kisses to the inside of her palm before she tucked herself into Mals side to drift to sleep. It was the Evie she saw outside chemistry class, all bright smiles and proud eyes and wholesome heart, the one who was completely and perfectly happy and comfortable in her own intelligence. It was the Evie she saw in the early mornings, humming quietly while she sauntered around the dorm in nothing more than the T-shirt and shorts she had slept in, under the assumption that Mal was still fast asleep. It was the Evie that Mal could look at for hours, and finally not see any traces of her mother's abuse. For a little while, at least.

It was a rare sight, but it was always worth the wait.

They didn't speak for a while, content to sit in perfect silence, letting their skin prune and their hair soak in the soapy water. It was never uncomfortable with Evie. The two of them could sit in silence for hours and Mal would still say they were the best hours of her life. There was just something easy about being with the blue haired girl, something tranquil and delicate and gentle, something that made Mal crave the time they spent together, something that made it incredibly hard to function when they were apart.

(Maybe it was the trauma of almost losing each other on the Isle every day, maybe it wasn't. They'd never know.)

Eventually though, Evie spoke.

It was after Mals hand had glided to the surface, her knuckles breaking the barrier between water and air, quietly drifting between the girls bodies. It was soft, an undemanding gesture, only made more serene when Evie drug her own hand through the water to pull Mals into her own. Her thumb swept across the green eyed girls knuckles, feeling the taut skin from various scars stretch over the small expense. Her eyes followed the movement, staring openly at the odd groove and resulting bump on Mals ring finger, where the joint had broken but the bone hadn't been set properly. She remembered the day it had happened far too vividly, the sense of fear and anxiety she had felt hearing Mal scream in agony familiar to this day.

"Do you ever think about it?" She asked. She hadn't meant to speak, not really, but now the question had been posed, and Evie found herself looking to Mal for an answer.

The purple haired girl shrugged, eyes fixed on their hands. "I try not to," she admitted softly, voice low. "After everything. But I do, sometimes."

Evie nodded, understanding. Her hands drifted from Mals to reach the girls calves, fingers tracing down them, over the raised skin of old blade wounds and the gnarled twists and turns of burn marks, until they settled around the shorter girls ankles. Every scar Mal donned held a different story. All vicious, all bad, all a painful reminder of where they came from and what they had done to survive. There were long, raised ones, like the one Harry Hook had left across Mals stomach after a particularly rough run in with Umas crew when Mal and Evie were fifteen. There were soft, barely there ones, like the faint stroke of a whip meant for someone else across the back of Mals left arm. There were ones that Evie couldn't see, ones left in Mals head from her mother, ones Evie couldn't touch with all the gentleness in the world and lay soft kisses to, ones Mal didn't want to tell her about.

Evie had her fair share of invisible scars. Some presented themselves at the dinner table, dancing across her ribs as she put another bite of mashed potatoes in her mouth and tried not to gag. Others showed themselves in manifestations in the mirrors she had once been taught to look at so keenly. And the worst ones, the ones Evie could barely stand, were the ones that projected themselves in her dreams. The ones that caused her to drift over the Mals side of the room and find the other girls pulse just to calm down. To let her know she was alive. They weren't on the Isle. They were okay.

(Except they weren't, not really, but they were really exceptionally good at acting by now, for reasons that would make Auradon kids shake in their expensive leather boots and silk dresses.)

Mals hands found Evies this time, and she tugged them into her grasp. Her thumbs ran over Evies palms, which donned the only physical scars Evie had ever received; self inflicted crescents that had made their home across the center of the blue haired girls hand.

"Do you?" Mal asked, her voice almost a whisper. "Think about it, I mean."

It was Evies turn to shrug. "Its not like I can stop the nightmares," she said quietly, almost like she was revealing a big truth about herself, which, she supposed, maybe she was. "But mostly I just worry about the kids we left. Like Dizzy."

Mal nodded, understanding. "Mostly," she echoed, seeing right through Evie, and reading the underlaying message in her words as if they were written at the top of the page in big, bold letters. She pulled Evies hands from under the water and pressed a kiss to the scars on her palms, soft, and gentle, and achingly familiar. She tasted like soap, but Mal didn't mind. "I'm sorry I couldn't have protected you better."

Evie immediately shook her head, and she shuffled closer in the water, hands slipping out of Mals grasp so they could slip into the groove of the girls jaw, fingers reaching into Mals hair and she held her face will all the delicacy she could muster. "Nothing that happened to me on the Isle was your fault, Mal," she said, tone gentle but firm. "Just like nothing that happened to you on the Isle was your fault."

Mal opened her mouth to argue, but any such sentiments were lost on her once she laid eyes on Evies face. The blue haired girls eyes were wide and earnest, full to the brim with nothing but love and acceptance and warmth. She knew that Mal had always struggled with the feeling that she could have done more, been around more, helped more. She was the daughter of _Maleficent_ , for gods sake. That should mean something. That should have meant something.

"I just.." She began, struggling to find the words. Her eyes drifted around Evies face, remembering the night she had seen her enter the warehouse later than usual, lips bruised and hands trembling, her entire body on the verge of collapse. Mal had shot out of bed immediately, and Evie had collapsed into her once she was within range. It had terrified Mal to no end. "I just wish I could've.. I don't know." Another pause as Mal tried to find her words. "I wish I could've done something. For you. For Carlos, Jay. I wish I had obliterated our parents. If I hadn't been so damn scared, then maybe-"

"Hey," Evie breathed, effectively cutting Mal off with just a single word. She had always had that effect on her. She always would. "Jay and Carlos are safe. _I'm_ safe. We're all here. We're alive. And no one, absolutely no one, blames you. We were all scared Mal. We get it." A pause, a gentle tug, green eyes meeting brown ones. _"_ _ _You__ _ _ _are___ _ _ _ _not____ _ _ _ _ _at_____ _ _ _ _ _ _fault______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _for_______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _what________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _happened_________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _on__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _the___________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Isle."____________

Mal searched Evies face for any hint of deceit, anything to tell her this wasn't the full truth, but all Mal felt from Evie were the waves of honestly rolling off her shoulders like boulders. This was the truth. The whole truth. And Mal felt herself nodding despite herself, because it was incredibly hard to deny Evie when she was being so open and true and maybe, just maybe, she was right.

Evie smiled at the action of agreement, thumbs stroking delicately at Mals cheeks now that she had settled that argument. Her blue nails were a stark contrast against the pale exposure of Mals skin, but they complimented her hair so well it barely even mattered. 

(Really, it didn't matter at all, but an eye for design is present at all times.)

"Thank you,"

Evie quirked at eyebrow at the timidly spoken admission, eyes searching for Mals, but only finding them moments later when the purple haired girl looked up at her to finish the sentiment.

"For sticking through my bullshit," she paused, thinking, hands swirling through the water between them. "I know it was hard, when we first got here." A breath. "We were all adjusting and trying to learn the turf and I was just such a _bitch_ to everyone, you included, because I just didn't know how to _deal."_ Another pause, as Mals hands found Evies thighs, and she ran her fingers up them until they settled on the taller girls knees. "I still don't. But you never left. Even when I went off on you because I couldn't understand how you could just be so _fine._ I know better now, thanks to you."

Evie nodded, tears springing to her eyes as she listened to Mal talk. She never did this, and it was getting to Evie like nothing else.

"And for, yknow," Mal hummed, hand leaving Evies knee momentarily to gesture vaguely in the air. "Listening. And knowing me well enough to say exactly what I needed to hear." Another pause. Mals cheeks had slowly coloured the slightest amount, clearly flushing from the embarrassment of being so uncharacteristically open. But her eyes met Evies regardless. "You're a fucking genius Evie."

And if Evie cried later while she washed the soap out of Mals hair later, well, that was her business.

**Author's Note:**

> @lameiish on twitter and @i-said-oops on tumblr if you wanna yell


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